


Con Amore

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim plays piano. He struggles with it sometimes.</p><p>“How about something else? Something you love.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Con Amore

Tim likes sight reading.

                He’s not very good at it, few people are, but he can’t resist the urge to sit down at a piano and try to play a new piece off the bat.  He only does it when he is bored, when he needs a mystery to figure out that can be easily solved through some practice and a key signature. While there are a lot of mistakes, swearing and wrong notes in this process, he can get the tune most of the time.

                Now is not one of those times.

                “God.” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a slow breath in. He will not get frustrated by a piano, damn it. Anything by Chopin is expected to be a challenge, but he wasn’t exactly expecting this much of a struggle. The time signature keeps throwing him off, the change in notes are making his fingers protest, and he is almost positive this piano is out of tune (or he really is butchering it that badly, but he would really like to avoid that train of thought). According to the book, the piece shouldn’t be all that difficult, yet no matter which approach he takes, the music falls flat, dull and lifeless.

                It’s after another attempt and a particularly long string of swears that Cassandra comes in, looking a bit concerned. She’s visiting from Hong Kong, and it’s easy to tell from Tim’s posture that he wants to break the piano in half.

                “Alright?” Cassandra has grown leaps and bounds from when she first started to speak, but she still prefers to talk in actions rather than words. Tim rubs his hand over his face, pointing at the sheet music like it’s a criminal.

                “No. I just can’t get this piece right, that’s all. It’s driving me-“

                “Batty?” Cass suggests, a small smirk on her face. Tim laughs, shaking his head and nods.

                “You could say that. I can usually get pieces like this easily on the fly but this time,” he sighs tapping a few notes on the keyboard. “Well, I just can’t seem to get it.”

                She sits down in one of the chairs across from the piano. “Why don’t you play something else?” Tim flips through his book of music for a few seconds and shuts it.

                “There’s nothing in here that I think I’m up for playing again. And I only sight read one thing at a time; don’t  want to give up on a challenge.”

                “Play your favorite then.”

                Tim blushes and it looks like he is thirteen all over again. “I don’t know…it’s a bit…well I haven’t”

                Cass points at the piano crossing her arms. “Play.” She smiles at him, and Tim is sure she had been spending way too much time with Stephanie.

                So he digs into his bag and pulls out an old piece of sheet music. It’s wrinkled on the edges, battered, and there’s a variety of stains on the sides from coffee to blood. Tim cracks his knuckles, looks at the piece, “Romanian Folk Dances” and begins to play.

                 Cass likes music. She always has enjoyed the melody, of watching people dance and sing. She knew Tim played, the whole family did, but she was under the impression Tim played only as a hobby. He was no professional; she saw that in his posture and how he played. He didn’t practice a piece again after he had gotten the basic melody down.  But once Tim starts to play this piece, his eyes half closed with a small smile on his face, Cass sees that he has clearly slaved over this piece.

                It’s complex, not to the level of Chopin, but hard enough. The dynamics change in wide sweeping gestures, the sound bending with the music. The melody is playful, it is a dance, and Cass taps to the beat with her foot. She frowns when the music ends, and Tim turns towards her with a sheepish look on his face. His eyes look a little wet.

                “Well I screwed that one up, huh?”

                Cass rose an eyebrow. “No, it was beautiful.”

                Tim shakes his head, grabbing the score and looking it over. “No, I messed up too much. I had a wrong note in measure thirty, I messed up this row of thirty second notes, and the dynamics near the end of the movement. Bach would have my head.”

                “He would also have your heart since you missed that line of triplets in the finale.” Damian calls from upstairs and Tim glowers up at the ceiling.

                “Yeah, that too. I can never get this piece right.” He rubs his hand through his hair. “I tried to learn it for Dick’s birthday present when I became Robin, as a thanks you know, but I always kept messing it up. He told me his mom used to hum it and, well I couldn’t play it unless I did it justice. So here it sits in my music folder for eternity.”

                “He’ll love it,” Cass says, beaming at her brother. Tim had always been incredibly sweet; he just hid it well in his teen years.

                “He’ll hate me, start sobbing and sulk for a week.  And you know how Dick gets when he sulks.”

                “You’re being stupid.” Cass gets up and swats the back of Tim’s head. “It wasn’t perfect but it was beautiful. Because you put so much effort into it.” Tim stares at her as she leaves for the doorway. “Oh and Dick’s birthday is next week. I hope to hear it then; I’ll bring the tissues.”

                Tim stares down at the piano, the black and white keys that he has always seen as an escape. “Romanian Folk Music” sits on the bench next to him. After a pause, Tim lifts the sheet music back on the stand, rests his fingers on the keys, and starts to play.

                In the room next door, Cassandra smiles.


End file.
